If we didn’t need ants; I swear by all that is holy I’d murder every last one of them. I was checking the grill after finishing dinner to see if it was done with its shutdown cycle; so I could unplug it and wrap up the cord. I see a trail of ants going up to the house to the siding. I spilled poison on the floor in the garage trying to quickly fill my sprayer because my glasses won’t stay on my face; that’s a whole other story. I terminated them with EXTREME prejudice, dusted the grass along the back porch, cleaned up the poison in the garage, loaded the dishwasher and started it, and now relaxing. I’m rewarding myself with cookies. It’s just a small bag of Famous Amos; four little cookies.
